


i think i saw you in the rainwater (but you didn’t stay long)

by obscurityofphylum



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Abuse, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, Klaus Hargreeves Whump, M/M, Panic Attack, Whump, angst no comfort, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24882547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obscurityofphylum/pseuds/obscurityofphylum
Summary: klaus never meant to fall back into drugs. but he didn’t have his dave, so what was he supposed to do?the one where klaus runs away from rehab and sees dave (well, kinda.)
Relationships: Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	i think i saw you in the rainwater (but you didn’t stay long)

for the record, he didn't intend to fall back into drugs. but the ghosts were loud and the gunfire was even louder, and the pills were oh-so-quiet. but mostly, it was because dave wasn't there.

he had tried to conjure him. almost six months of no signs. now, allison was in front of him, shoving a voluntary rehab admission form in his face. she had that look to her, and he knew he couldn't talk himself out of it.

"it's for the best." she tried to say, but klaus could barely see or hear because of the dots swimming in his vision. his mouth was dry from the grimy residue of pill capsules, and his head was pounding.

he knew she was still giving him a grace period. she was being too nice, too soft. it had only been a couple weeks since his last overdose, but it felt like months.

this one had been bad. probably the worst overdose since they had gotten back from preventing the apocalypse. he had seizures. four of them, to be exact. and when he woke up, he was in the hospital, vomit in his lungs near-suffocating him. 

she made him sign the papers. his hands were shaking, and he thought he saw allison's face turn to a mixture of anger and disappointment out of the corner of his eye.

the program wasn't that bad. he'd done it before. twice. he knew the drill: strip, lose whatever dignity he still had, get a shitty hospital bracelet (which they actually had to go to the pediatrics center next door for, because the regular one was too big for his wrist, eating almost nothing but oxycodone for three months straight wasn't helping his scrawniness.) he tried not to look at allison. god, he hated that big sister stare.

she promised she'd visit on the weekend. thursday and friday passed. the weekend did too, and she didn't come. klaus couldn't bring himself to care too much, but it still hurt a little bit.

klaus stayed in bed most of the first week. his bones ached and his forehead felt like it was on fire. he'd be cold when he went to sleep, so he wrapped the itchy cotton blanket tight around his shoulders. but he'd wake up to his body almost on fire and practically couldn't move fast enough to kick the blankets off of himself. 

the therapy wasn't too bad. he never talked in group, more just tried to shrink into himself into his chair as the drops of sweat on his body would freeze themselves into little invisible icicles that left his teeth chattering. 

what he really didn't care for was the mealtimes. he couldn't have been hungry if he tried, with the nausea that was polluting his senses. but, he needed to get out of the hellhole eventually, and cooperation seemed to be key. so he'd have a little bite of bread, a piece or two of lettuce, maybe half an apple slice. anything to get that pretty little checkmark of completion beside his name on the nurse's chart. 

but, with all things klaus hargreeves, things would eventually fall apart. because no matter how often he'd been around this bend of the road, it always had something new and terrible to serve to him on a silver fucking platter. 

it happened during rec time. he was sitting against the brick wall, his arms wrapped around his knees. it was cold, freezing, and he could feel his fingertips going numb. 

"ask for a jacket before you catch a cold." ben said, sitting cross-legged on the ground next to him. they had to be more careful about talking to each other, because if doctor know-it-all doesn't like his patients seeing things, he definitely doesn't like his patients seeing their dead brother. 

klaus shrugged, barely glancing at ben. he kind of liked the chill. it penetrated bones, and felt like heaven to his fever. he picked at the grass on the ground beside him absentmindedly, resting his head on his knees.

there was a little cluster of ghosts standing near the base of a tree a few meters from him, and he prayed they didn't see him. they hadn't noticed yet, which he was at least thankful for. 

"klaus. now." ben said more firmly. a group of patients were playing makeshift basketball with a volleyball and a hula hoop. klaus almost laughed at the irony of it all, but ben broke him out of his thoughts. 

"he wouldn't want you to get sick." ben said quietly. 

"stop talking, ben." klaus murmured, eyes not leaving the group of people playing on the asphalt. it was somewhat entertaining to watch. 

"he wanted what's best for you. you know that. please, just take care of yourself for once." ben's voice was getting louder. he didn’t even need to say his name for klaus to know who he was talking about.

"shut up." klaus spat through gritted teeth. 

"you know, for such a selfish bastard, you really have no regard for yourself."

"shut up, you prick!" klaus screamed, hot tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. he gave ben a look of pure rage. the group playing basketball had stopped to stare at him. 

everyone was staring. usually, he would’ve loved the attention. but right now, he needed to be invisible. their eyes were burning holes into his already feverish skin, and he felt like an animal in the zoo.

all at once, it felt too much. he was aware of too much. the chill had disappeared and now he was too warm. his face was red against his milky-pale skin. his sweaty hair was sticking to his forehead in a way that made him want to yell. everything was uncomfortable and wrong, so wrong. 

ben wasn't looking at him anymore. he had turned away, arms crossed over his chest. the dots invading klaus's vision again, except they were more like blobs. giant drops of ink, coming in waves from his peripheral vision. 

the dots were taking over. somebody had tipped over an ink bottle, and the contents were spilling into his eyes. he couldn't see. he couldn't hear. 

when he came back to earth, all he heard were shouts, and the wind whistling behind him. he was vaguely aware of his feet hitting the ground rapidly, and the very beginnings of rain darkening the concrete below him.

there were shouts behind him. he kept going. that's one plus to being a former child super-soldier. he almost took a second to thank reginald for all the endurance training as a kid. 

the road to the rehab center faded away, and his surroundings became the very outskirts of the city. he recognized where he was. a few people on the sidewalk exiting the convenience store gave him a weird look. he was sure he looked awfully funny, running at full speed on a late january afternoon in nothing but a tee shirt and sweatpants. he couldn’t bring himself to care. he kept going. 

when his lungs were finally drained, he ducked into an alleyway. it was dark, the sun had already set and his chest ached. he could feel his clothes sticking uncomfortably to his back from both his sweat and the rain, which was coming down in sheets now. 

klaus dropped to his knees, grimacing as they were assaulted by the rough concrete, and he didn't even need to look to tell that they were bloody. rainwater was falling into a small divet in the ground, illuminated by the light over one of the alley's back doors. 

the puddle of rainwater was warm. he could see himself in the shallow pool, and cringed at the sight. he'd always been somewhat gaunt, but now his flesh looked pulled tight over his cheekbones. more to get rid of his image than anything else, he washed his face as much as he could. he was immediately even colder than before once the air reached his damp skin. droplets of water ran down the bridge of his nose. when klaus finished washing up, his reflection caught his eye.

he could see a hand that definitely wasn't his own on his face. warmth against his cold skin. a thumb brushed over his lips softly. klaus placed his own hand over the one on his face. he held it there. he didn't want to look yet, he wanted to wait.

"klaus, darling." 

and when klaus looked up, there was a soldier, his soldier, as bright as the day he’d met him. and the soldier was looking back at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world. he was blond and blue eyed, and for the first time in months, klaus could finally breathe. 

klaus knew he couldn’t stay. it was like watching the light fade from a dark room. watching a candle's fire dwindle, until all that's left is smoke and the aftertaste of fragrance. klaus couldn't feel him anymore. dave's smile was gone, and all that was left was thin air. 

he touched his face. put his hand where dave's hand was. the warmth was gone. and when he looked back into the puddle, all that reflected was hollow, green eyes, and klaus's own bony hand, wrist clad with a stupid fucking hospital bracelet, over where dave's hand should've been. 

he pounded his fist down into the puddle until his clothes were soaked and he was freezing cold. he was pretty sure he had broken a couple fingers, and blood from his knuckles ran in watery streaks on the asphalt. he stopped, sobs wracking his body. 

he cried for a long time. none of it was fair. why had the universe given him dave just to take him away? none of it made sense anymore and the lines were blurring. he rested his head on his knees, rubbing his eyes with tattooed hands until the rubbing turned more into clawing and his skin was red and burning. with shaky, hiccuping breaths, he could feel himself starting to separate. 

he was zoning out. the hurt was still there, but he couldn’t feel it. he had misplaced it, somewhere far away. he’d come back to it once he could deal with it, and find it packed away with everything else. maybe he could unpack it all with the help of oxycodone. maybe he couldn’t, and he’d just leave it alone forever. 

for a while, he just stared. he sat with his knees to his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. he was shivering. his head hurt like hell, but he was too busy gritting his teeth to try and stop crying to do anything about it.

he wanted him. more than anything. it felt like every minute dave wasn’t there, somebody was pulling his heart further and further out of his chest. he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. his throat ached, and he needed to scream. he didn’t understand anything anymore. his hand was still in the place dave’s once was, cradling his own face. why did everyone get to be so happy? why was he damned to this? he’d rather walk through hell than face one more minute without him. 

he wanted them to meet dave. he wanted claire to see him, he wanted diego and luther and the others to meet him. he knew it wasn’t possible, but part of him had always hoped for things to be different. he should’ve learned not to have hope, that hope was just stupid little fantasies, especially when you’re raised by reginald hargreeves. 

the reflections on the water turned to an obnoxious flicker red and blue, and he could vaguely hear sirens. a pair of black shoes walked up to him. he couldn’t bring himself to lift his head. it was funny, he was afraid of cops for nearly thirteen years and now he could barely bring himself to even acknowledge them. 

“you ready to go back now, sir?” the owner of the boots asked, crouching down to klaus’s height. the officer’s badge shimmered in the light. he couldn’t read the name, his eyes were still too blurry with tears. klaus sniffled and nodded, even though he wasn’t ready. he never would be.


End file.
